


look after you

by ifthebookdoesntsell



Category: The Prom (2020), The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Married Life, Sickfic, this is soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29724180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifthebookdoesntsell/pseuds/ifthebookdoesntsell
Summary: The last thing she’s going to do is wake the woman to tell her she’s sick, especially after she told her to wear extra layers all last week and Emma had told her she’d be fine.Her back aches slightly as she tries to remain comfortable without disrupting the silence. There’s a slight chill in her bones even after she pulls the blankets up to her chin.Emma hates being sick.Not only does it feel gross, but it usually is pre-dated by one Alyssa Greene giving advice on how she might avoid such things altogether.(Or, Alyssa told Emma to wear a jacket, and she didn't. Now, she's sick, and it's three am.)
Relationships: Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan
Comments: 15
Kudos: 57





	look after you

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all! here's a little soft fic to get your weekend started! i hope that everybody's had a good week. this is inspired by that incorrect quote: 
> 
> person a: i will do a lot of things...  
> person a: but i admitting to person b that i'm cold when they told me to bring a jacket is not one of them. 
> 
> of course, emma is person a, and alyssa is person b lmao. 
> 
> (title from aron wright's "look after you.")

“Shit,” Emma mumbles, wiping away mucus for what feels like the thousandth time in the last five minutes. 

She sniffles quietly, trying not to cough despite the congestion in her chest. She was awoken by the desperate need to blow her nose as well as the gentle patter of raindrops outside. For a moment, she takes a breath, chuckling in annoyance at the way it rattles through her, though she’s able to appreciate the soft rhythm of the sky’s crying. 

She smiles to herself, imagining that maybe the night feels a little sick too, and it just needed to let it out. 

As quietly as she can, Emma shifts, a new bit of energy running through her, grabbing her phone from the nightstand to scroll absently through the news or Instagram, whichever peaks her interest, clearing her throat as quietly as she can. 

Alyssa is lying beside her, sleeping soundly, and Emma knows that if she gets up, so will her wife.

The last thing she’s going to do is wake the woman to tell her she’s sick, especially after she told her to wear extra layers all last week and Emma had told her she’d be fine. 

Her back aches slightly as she tries to remain comfortable without disrupting the silence. There’s a slight chill in her bones even after she pulls the blankets up to her chin. 

Emma hates being sick. 

Not only does it feel gross, but it usually is pre-dated by one Alyssa Greene giving advice on how she might avoid such things altogether. 

_Happy wife, happy life,_ Hawkins’ voice rings through her head. 

Alyssa is sure going to be happy being able to say _I told you so_ in the morning. Emma laughs to herself quietly at the thought. She loves how high and mighty her wife, all of 5’4”, gets when she’s right. She’s always so cute. 

Ten years, and not a single thing about their relationship, about having Alyssa beside her, has gotten old. 

Emma smiles softly to herself, trailing her finger along the phone screen, yelping quietly when a video ad begins to play loudly. She frantically tries to shut it off, but there’s a stirring beside her before she can. 

“Em?” Alyssa asks quietly, groaning a little. “What time is it?” 

Emma blushes. “Around three.”

“Why are you up?” Alyssa sits up, soft in one of Emma’s hoodies and a pair of sweatpants. Her hair falls over her shoulders gently. She rubs her eyes. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Emma mumbles, sniffling and wiping her nose in what she thinks is quite a discreet fashion. 

Evidently, it isn’t. 

“You’re sick, aren’t you?” Alyssa’s lips twitch in amusement. She pushes the covers off herself and crawls over to press a hand to Emma’s forehead. “Oh, baby,” she murmurs. 

Emma shivers a little. She puts her phone down to look up to her wife with a tiny smile. “You’re not going to say it?”

“Say what?” Alyssa asks in confusion, testing the warmth of her cheeks and ears too. 

“You know,” Emma begins before something tickles in the back of her throat and she has to cough. _“I told you so.”_

Alyssa laughs, and Emma feels her chest settle a little. Alyssa’s laugh always makes her feel better. 

“Do you want me to say it?” Alyssa teases, looking down at her. 

Emma shrugs. “I kind of deserve it, I think.”

Rolling her eyes, Alyssa bends over to kiss the tip of her nose. “Well, then, Emma Nolan? I told you so.” 

“That’s Emma Nolan-Greene to you,” Emma quips, pressing softly into her wife’s touch when Alyssa presses their foreheads together. She shivers when there are suddenly cold hands under her sweatshirt. “Jesus!” she gasps, glaring affectionately. “What was that for?”

Alyssa giggles. “I wanted to see if you’re warm all over, which you are, and after that, my non-professional diagnosis is that you have a fever.” She swings herself out of Emma’s lap and reaches her hand out. “Come on. Get undressed. I’ll run a bath.”

“Take a girl to dinner first, woman,” Emma jokes, though she does get out of bed and take Alyssa’s hands.

“I’ve taken you to thousands of dinners by now,” Alyssa replies without missing a beat, dragging her wife along. “You’ll thank me for this later.”

“It’s three o’clock!” Emma grumbles. “Why can’t we do this in the morning?”

“Because you’ll be grumpier in the morning,” Alyssa tells her, shooting her a knowing look as they round into the bathroom. “You’re always grumpy when you don’t sleep.”

“Am not,” Emma whines. She sneezes a few times and groans, grabbing a tissue from the counter and blowing her nose.

Alyssa’s gaze softens. “How about I get in with you?”

She turns both spigots, hot all the way and cold half. 

“You don’t have to,” her wife says quietly. “I’m just being dramatic.”

Alyssa shakes her head. “I’ll hold you. Just don’t fall asleep on me like last time this happened,” she jokes.

“I won’t! I won’t!” Emma beams at her. “God, I was an _awful_ patient last time.”

“You were,” Alyssa agrees with a grin. “You’re lucky you’re cute. It’s the only reason I keep you around.” 

Emma laughs louder at that.

***

“I can stay up and help you!” Emma says around a yawn, wrapped up in her softest clothes and lying back against her pillows. 

Alyssa smiles softly. 

“Go back to bed, baby.” She brushes Emma’s hair away from her forehead which is thankfully cooler now. “You sure you want the soup to be chicken and rice this time?”

Emma nods softly, taking another slightly rattled breath. “And will you make a big pot?”

She coughs again and whimpers. Alyssa rubs her back softly. 

“Of course, love.” She pulls the covers up over Emma. “Do you want anything else from the store while I’m there?”

Emma thinks for a moment, obviously drowsy as she mulls over any options that will come to mind at this moment. 

“Will you rent us a good movie?” She shifts a little, stretching out her back. 

Alyssa nods. She leans down to kiss Emma’s forehead, removing her glasses which are haphazardly skewed on her face from the way she’s lying down. 

“I think I can manage that.” She stands up, going to turn toward their bedroom door to leave before she looks back at Emma. “Don’t get up while I’m gone,” she instructs. “Sleep. Understand?”

Emma salutes lazily. “Yes. Yes, I understand.” Her lips twitch. “Happy wife, happy life.”

“Yes.” Alyssa grins at her. “And said wife will remain happy if you stay in bed and fall asleep.”

“That doesn’t even rhyme,” Emma quips. Alyssa gives her a look that the blonde immediately surrenders under. “Okay. I will stay in bed. Promise.” She pulls Alyssa’s pillow closer to her and breathes in her lingering scent as she says the words.

“Good,” her wife says. “I’m going to get going before things get busy now, okay?”

“Okay,” Emma mumbles, eyes drooping slightly. “Be safe!” She grins, a little dopey from the NyQuil she was given a little while ago. “Make sure to wear a jacket so you don’t get sick.”

Alyssa rolls her eyes affectionately, laughing a little. “Will do.” 

**Author's Note:**

> hey there! thanks for reading. what did you think? if you enjoyed, consider dropping me a comment/kudo down below. i love hearing from you, and it would make me smile!
> 
> as always, you can find me @ifthebookdoesntsell on tumblr if you wanna chat some more. my askbox is always open for whatever's on your mind. 
> 
> be safe x


End file.
